


Conversations Without Words

by scribblemyname



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: 3+1 times, F/M, Get Together, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:00:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29371215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemyname/pseuds/scribblemyname
Summary: Usually they talk, quiet words concerning their clans, their Kings, or exchanging information because the two of them are practical minded people and understand the value of the different realms they walk in. Right now, it's peaceful and he's enjoying the feeling of her sighing out her tension and actually relaxing for once.That's as rare as a quiet night at the bar.
Relationships: Awashima Seri/Kusanagi Izumo
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	Conversations Without Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KelpieChaos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KelpieChaos/gifts).



> Beta by Enisy, remaining mistakes all mine

Munakata Reisi is full of words, so many words, perhaps because Suoh Mikoto isn't the only person reacting to them. Kusanagi stands behind his King and raises his eyebrows at all the reasons destroying so much property was absolutely _necessary_ for the greater good—considering the greater good of preventing Mikoto's violent property damage has fallen so frequently to Scepter 4.

The Gold King, Kokujoji, listens with a perpetual frown and endless patience.

Kusanagi tilts his head to give a sideways look at the Lieutenant.

Awashima's face is carefully blank, her mouth flat. There's an art to reading her silent expressions, and Kusanagi finds himself smiling.

She finds both Kings just as ridiculous as he does.

* * *

It's a quiet night at the bar once Mikoto has gone upstairs and Anna's been tucked into bed. Kusanagi considers that nigh on a miracle with the boys in high spirits over the mild chastisement of their King, but they've all cleared out and he's cleaning the bar and considering whether to go over the books.

He hasn't turned the sign to closed yet, but he wasn't expecting anyone either, so he's surprised to hear the soft sound of the bell. When he looks up, he can't help but smile a little at the sight of the sweetest woman he knows. He'd never tell her she was that, and she hides it well, but he's heard her fretting over whether her squad members are well taken care of and been her packmule when she's shopping to ensure they are.

He gives her a light nod, opting to let the silence linger a moment.

She pauses, nods back, and settles at the bar as he mixes her preferred drink. It's a terrible drink, but he's a bartender, not a judge, and he likes to please her, however mildly.

Usually they talk—quiet words concerning their clans, their Kings—or exchange information because the two of them are practical-minded people and understand the value of the different realms they walk in. Right now, it's peaceful, and he's enjoying the feeling of her sighing out her tension and actually relaxing for once.

That's as rare as a quiet night at the bar.

If they were different people, if their clans were different and they hadn't just visited the Gold King, maybe he'd flirt a little and actually give voice to how beautiful she is, but that would just be a different kind of tension. He doesn't think he's ever seen her shoulders ease from their perfect posture before, watched her tip back the glass and nearly close her eyes as she tastes it. He thinks it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

She looks at him her own kind of sideways, a hint of an eyebrow rising, the ever so slight flattening of her mouth.

He raises his hands, backs up one step, then starts mixing her a refill, holding a mischievous grin.

She lets him top off her drink without protest, but the perfect peace has already been replaced with their neutral camaraderie.

Though that's pleasant too.

* * *

She doesn't talk after the end of the clans, the end of the Kings. Everyone's alive and that matters.

Except the truth is, everyone of _hers_ is alive.

He doesn't hold that against her though, when she steps inside his apartment door, taking him up on an invitation from a very long time ago, when they were both more carefree. She looks at him, and her face is a study in mixed emotions, as if she doesn't know whether to tremble, to cry, or to hold onto her stoic reserve even in the face of this.

Aura bleeding out of them, never to be replaced. Purpose still to be reassessed, realigned into a new world without Kings in it.

She looks at him, a pained expression on her face, and it's not like she's never expressive, never shows any emotion, but this is a crack in the ice, and she's here because they have always been alike.

He wants to say something, and there's always something to say. Nobody else died today. He's already lost the two who stood beside him, but he held onto the clan, to the little girl they'd raised together. Munakata Reisi—annoying and sparkly perfect and, most of all, _Seri's_ —is still alive.

He touches her face gently, brushes back an errant strand of hair.

He shouldn't take the liberty, but she lets him, leans her face into the touch, then steps into his arms as if this is exactly what she came for.

* * *

"Good evening, Seri." Kusanagi smiles at the beautiful woman stepping into the bar, dressed down, hair falling over her shoulders.

It's the end of another long day.

They don't use aura anymore, but Scepter 4 still has its function and Homra does too. At the end of a long day, she still likes to sit and exchange war stories.

"Your Yata Misaki would not stop complaining," she says with a severe expression.

His mouth twitches in amusement as he mixes her drink. "That might be because you cuffed him to the chair until he promised to stop breaking into the dorms. Please tell me you gave him a key."

"Of course not. If one of our members wants him to have one, he can give it himself." She sips her drink and shoots him a baleful look.

"Ever practical," he agrees.

He slides a tiny object across the counter with her refill.

Her eyes widen slightly. "I see." She picks up the key and places it in her pocket.


End file.
